


you can't run from the shadow (but you can invite it to dance)

by Elri (angelrider13)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Ain't Nobody Got Time For Your Nonsense Bahamut, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Body Dysphoria, Brown Italian Middle-Class Trans Woman Reborn As Pale Royal Cis Woman, F/M, Fix-It, Fuck the Prophecy, Gen, Self-Insert, Self-Insert as Regis's Twin Sister, Waking Up In A Different Body Is Always Weird
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-06-29 18:59:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15735441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelrider13/pseuds/Elri
Summary: Waking up in a different body when she remembered dying was terrifying.Waking up as a character that didn’t exist in a world she knew as a story was…something else entirely.





	1. Chapter 1

Waking up in a different body was awkward.

Waking up in a different body when she remembered _dying_ was terrifying.

It was strange and wrong and nothing around her made sense. She was a child again, an _infant_ , small and uncoordinated and useless. She couldn’t move, not really, not the way she wanted to, and she could barely see anything unless it was right in front of her face. She could hear voices, but she couldn’t understand them. It was all just noise to her, gibberish, nonsensical sounds that meant nothing to her. She felt like she should understand it, but the knowledge, _words_ , slipped through her fingers like water.

There was a woman with pale skin and dark hair that smiled softly at her.

“Rayna,” she would say, voice gentle and honey sweet.

It took her far longer than she would like to admit to realize that was her name.

It wasn’t the name she remembered, wasn’t the name she had picked for herself in her life that was.

And it wasn’t the only thing that was different. She couldn’t see herself, but she could see her hands. They were chubby, the way all baby hands were, but the skin covering them was the wrong color. It was pale with rosy pink splatches of color. That wasn’t her skin. Not the skin that she remembered. She remembered a golden tan that grew darker in the sun. The skin she had now looked so white that if she went outside, she’d probably burn. She had no idea what color her eyes were or what her hair looked like and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know – wasn’t sure she could handle knowing. The only thing that was keeping her from having a break down every other minute was the fact that is seemed like she had been born with the right parts this time around.

The knowledge that she was in diapers and needed someone to change her was eased, somewhat, by the fact that it was that very occurrence that led her to this realization. She couldn’t see, but she could feel it when whoever was changing her wiped her. The first time she realized, she burst out into great, heaving sobs. There would be no obstacle course, no hoops to jump through, to make her body the right sex this time. No surgeries or treatments or therapies. She was a girl and everyone knew it. As her grasp on the language grew better, she heard people call her the right pronouns without prompting, without her having to correct them. Having the wrong coloring would be easy to handle in comparison.

In theory at least.

She’d wait until the euphoria wore off to make a decision.

* * *

The first time she looked in a mirror and realized what she was looking at, she scrutinized her reflection thoroughly. Ignoring the way the adults cooed at her behavior in the background, she leaned in close to get a better look. She was pudgy, face round with baby fat and covered in skin as pale as her hands. It was hard to tell what her features would look like as she grew. Her eyes, she could tell were a little narrower, more pointed in the corners than they were in her last life. She almost expected blue eyes, the way you read about babies’ eyes being, but it looked like hers had settled; a dark gray-green color. Not quite the hazel she had before, but close enough she supposed. Her hair, well, her hair was the right color at least. Dark tufts of fluffy black hair sat on her head with a little purple bow clipped in it. It was baby fine and probably wouldn’t hold curls without a boat load of hair spray even once she was older.

Small hands interrupted her exploitation and she turned to look at a face she now realized looked startling like hers.

Twins, was the delayed thought.

A brother, if her budding grasp on the language was correct.  Not that that necessarily meant anything; she’ll just have to ask him when they’re older.

She’s not sure which of them was born first, but she knows that his name was Regis the same way hers was Rayna.

He babbled at her, giving her a sweet smile that only infants could pull off, and she found herself cooing back without even thinking.

She could live with this.

* * *

Waking up in a different body when she remembered dying was terrifying.

Waking up as a character that didn’t exist in a world she knew as a story was…something else entirely.

It took her awhile to put it together. She knew Regis. Her brother, her twin, her constant companion. But then she learned that the man that visited them often with the woman with pale skin and dark hair was named Mors. And as she learned the language, she realized little things: the way the women who watched over her and Regis called them “Highness,” the way people called Mors and the woman who visited “Majesty,” words like “Insomnia” and “Lucis” and “Astrals.”

She’d been reborn as the twin sister of Regis Lucis Caelum, 113th King of Lucis.

Fuck.

Her brother, who smiled at her and shared toys with her and pat her cheeks because he knew it made her giggle. Her brother, who was going to die at fifty because of an old grudge and a stupid prophecy after draining his life force for who knew how many years to act as a shield for as many people as he could shelter. Her brother, who wanted nothing more than for his son to _live_ even though he was born to die for the very Astrals they all worshipped as gods.

Her brother, who made her love him without even trying.

She turned to look at Regis, napping on the playmat next to her, ignorant of the sword hanging above his neck. She took his hand and his fingers curled around hers automatically, an inborn reflex that neither of them had really outgrown yet, but one that never failed to turn her heart to mush.

Regis stirred and yawned, smacking his lips together as his eyes opened to peer up at her, hazy with sleep.

“Ray’a,” he slurred, curling around her clumsily, burrowing into her side like he belonged there.

Her breath hitched and she felt her eyes burn. That was her name now. Her new name was her new brother’s first word, sloppy and sleep slurred as it was, it was still her name. She curled around him in turn, hands clasped between them.

“Re’is,” she whispered back, tongue clumsy in her mouth, heart in her throat.

Her brother hummed and dropped back into the land of dreams.

She stayed awake and whispered his name until she could say it properly without fail.

* * *

The gods of this world wanted her brother’s servitude.

They wanted him to serve their Crystal, to drain his magic to nothing until the only thing he had left to give was himself. And then they would demand more. The life of his future son, her future nephew, for the sake of a prophesy that would have never been if these gods had been the kind that kept their word.

The gods of this world wanted her brother’s life.

 

 

 

 

 

_They couldn’t have him._


	2. Chapter 2

By the time Rayna was five, she'd decided that being royalty was overrated.

She was barely out of her toddler years and already they had her and Regis going through court etiquette. Because apparently if you called a Duke "my Lord" instead of "Your Grace" or failed to properly articulate someone's name, it would offend their delicate, noble sensibilities. Personally, she's of the opinion that if a five year old acting like a five year old was offensive, then their sensibilities deserved to be shattered.

Watching their governess's face when she messed up on purpose was a thing of beauty and Regis's smothered giggles just made it even better. Honestly, if kids were a thing in her future (and they probably would be given the royalty thing), then she's holding off on court training until they were at least eight just so she could cackle at all the flailing nobles. If Regis let her, she'd do the same with Noctis.

But that was in the far off future and right now she was just a child with a weird amount of adult expectations. She was a bit baffled by it actually. She had thought that this was a modern age relatively speaking and that people would be well aware that treating children like small adults was not something that ended well for either party. Maybe it was just a royalty thing? She had no idea.

Another thing was that her supposed parents were hardly a blip on the scale. She was lucky if she saw either of them once a week, which was ridiculous even if they had a country to run. Regis didn't really notice, but he had no other frame of reference - this was normal for him, for him this is what parents were.

Rayna though, she'd had parents before. They'd had their ups and downs and didn't always see eye to eye and they were by no means perfect, but they had been _present._ Mors and his wife, whose name was apparently Ophelia, just...weren't.

They were strangers in every sense of the word and while Ophelia would hug them and coo over them when she visited, it was awkward at best and distant at worst. Rayna wasn't really comfortable with these two people who came and went as they pleased but still expected to be addressed as "mother" and "father" and be granted all the unconditional love those titles implied. It was obvious they'd had a child out of obligation rather than the actual desire to become parents.

Which she was fine with, for the most part. Rayna had lived to adulthood in her life before - she knew who she was, had had time to grow into herself. For all that she was in a different body, that knowledge hadn't gone away. No, she didn't really need parents. She had Regis and their governess and she was content with that. 

What she was not content with were all the rules that came with her new life. It was bad enough that she knew disaster was looming just around the corner. Now she had to deal with other people running her life like they were entitled to it. She'd expected it to some degree - she was a child after all and children needed to be managed. But she had little time to herself, was always expected to be perfect, and though she could speak now, no one seemed to want to listen.

She got frustrated easily and she lashed out as children were prone to what they were overwhelmed. New life or not, new body or not, she was an introvert and being around people all the time without reprieve was _exhausting_. But people didn't seem to understand that. There was _always_  someone there - telling them how to act, how to dress, how to stand, how to sit, how to _play_.

Rayna wanted to _scream_.

And she did. Quite frequently. Because no one listened when she tried to tell them she was done for the day, when she needed a break, when she needed to breathe. So she screamed and cried and once she even threw an inkwell at their tutor so hard that she ended up breaking his nose.

Regis would stand between her and the adults with a frown on his face, back straight, head held high, looking every inch a King despite his small stature. Rayna was guiltily grateful for it. Regis was child in body and in mind, but he would protect her first and always even though it should have been the other way around. Regis was determined and Rayna couldn't find it in herself to make him stop.

He'd drag her to the gardens, pointedly ignoring the guards trailing after them, babbling nonsense at her all the while and weaving flowers into her hair while she calmed down. It happened often enough that the landscaping staff became quite familiar with them. Loren in particular was fond of them and taught them how to make flower crowns. Regis was delighted by the very idea of them and between the three of them, they made enough crowns for everyone.

When their governess eventually tracked them down, Rayna shyly presented her a crown made of amaryllis flowers and day lilies.

"Sorry for leaving the lesson, Emelie," Rayna said, eyes on the ground, because she knew that her behavior was unacceptable for a princess. As an adult, she knew better and as a princess, she was expected to be better. Though physically a child, she felt her own behavior, however justified, was inappropriate. She expected better of herself.

"I'm not sorry," Regis said stubbornly, eyes defiant, even as she prodded his side, "We can't be in lessons all the time and no one ever listens when Rayna says she needs a break!"

Emelie sighed. "Your Highness -"

Regis set his jaw and glared at her. "No," he said with all the gravity a five year old could muster, "We're taking the rest of the day off and tomorrow too. And if you try to stick us in lessons, we'll just sneak out again."

Emelie eyed the young Prince, before looking at her. Rayna wasn’t sure what she looked like, but her eyes felt swollen and raw and her cheeks felt tacky.

Their governess sighed again at whatever she saw, the line of her shoulders easing. “Very well, Highness.”

Regis beamed and gleefully took the flower crown from his sister’s hands, presenting it to Emelie. Their governess huffed out a laugh and knelt, allowing Regis to place the crown on her head.

She smiled at them, fingers tracing the petals. “Thank you, Prince Regis. Princess Rayna.”

Rayna smiled back and offered her some crocus flowers. “Wanna help?”

Emelie settled herself down on the grass, carefully arranging her skirts. “I don’t know how to make flower crowns,” she said, “You’ll have to show me.”

The twins grinned at her.

* * *

 

Weskham was a lot like what she remembered of Ignis.

He was poised and polite and everything a chamberlain to the future king would need to be. He was kind and gentle, but had a cutting tongue and a quick wit to match. Rayna quite liked him. She didn’t really know what to make of him, that first day when Emelie introduced them to each other.

Her memories of her life before have faded and the fine details that she kept tucked away from prying eyes, encrypted in her mother tongue, made no mention. Whatever role Weskham played in the greater game was minor at best. She remembers that he was in Altissia by the time the main plot rolled around, but she knew nothing about why he left or his relationship with her brother.

Regis was…less than impressed with Weskham. Although, Rayna suspected that had more to do with the fact that it was made clear that Weskham was there to be _his_ advisor with no mention of her at all.

(Rayna was forever grateful that she was the younger twin. She wasn’t sure if she’d have been the heir were she older given her gender, but now she didn’t have to worry about it.)

To his credit, Weskham didn’t let Regis’s attitude bother him, though it did take him about two weeks to figure out the cause. The day he greeted Rayna first and engaged her in conversation, completely ignoring Regis in the meantime, was the day Regis began to thaw towards him.

“If you’re going to mine,” Regis told him later, eyes serious as Rayna hovered over his shoulder, “Than you have to be _ours_.”

Weskham just looked between them and nodded.

He started attending lessons with them and when he noted the tension between the royals and several of their tutors, he placed himself firmly on their side.

“ _I quite like him_ ,” Rayna whispered to her brother in Italian as they watched Weskham argue with their tutor about the benefits of hands on instruction, all of ten years old to their seven.

Regis snorted next to her. “ _You just like that he’s willing to argue with anyone_.”

“ _It’ll be good for you when we’re older_.”

Regis wrinkled his nose at her. “ _That’s what I have you for_.”

Rayna laughed.

* * *

“This…could end poorly,” Weskham said, as he stood next to her watching Regis and Clarus go at it in the middle of the training yard.

Rayna grimaced. “It’s been a long time coming, Wesk,” she replied, “Let them get everything out in the open now.”

Weskham hummed in agreement, but the slant of his mouth told her he was not pleased.

The situation with Clarus had caught her completely off guard. What she remembered painted the relationship between Regis and Clarus as best friends at _worst_ and platonic life partners or even lovers at best. They were loyal to each other, trusted each other. But that was their relationship almost forty years from now. She’d had no idea how they started out but it was becoming increasingly obvious that the bond she remembered was something that had developed over time.

Clarus was to be Regis’s Shield.

She knew it.

Regis knew it.

Everyone knew it.

But Clarus was an only child, and there were two royal children. Since Regis was the Crown Prince, he was the one Clarus would swear oaths too once he came of age. This left Rayna without a Shield of her own and Regis was not please about the blatant disregard of his sister’s safety. In everyone’s defense, it had been _generations_ since there had been more than one royal child at a time and twins were even rarer – no one had expected it. Clarus was older than them and Lord Amicitia’s wife was unable to bare more children due to an illness that left her health in precarious balance. But at the same time, no one was making an effort to step up and accommodate the fact that they existed. Regis was the oldest and as such traditions that had been in place since the beginning of their line had fallen to him. And traditionally, only those of the Amicitia line served as Shields. This left Rayna by the wayside.

She was given a regular guard, but there was no one to be appointed as her future Shield, nor was there any effort put into finding one. The implications of this were…not positive. Guards were of course expected, but a Shield was something more than a guard and the fact that Rayna was indirectly considered unworthy of one rubbed the twins the wrong way. Regis was furious on her behalf, but Rayna wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about the whole thing. Somedays, she still felt very much like an outsider, like she was watching someone else’s life story unfold before her eyes even though she’d been here for ten years already. She wasn’t originally part of the story – obviously there was no Shield for her because she didn’t belong here. She had no place. Other days, she just felt resigned to the whole thing. She was distant at best with her parents and she had no expectations of them. The Council wasn’t much better.

Regis made his displeasure known at every available opportunity and Weskham was the king of passive aggressiveness.

In all honesty, Rayna wasn’t even sure she wanted a Shield.

She had guards. She received combat training. She learned to control her magic alongside Regis. A loyal companion would be nice, she supposed, but she wasn’t entirely certain she was worth it. It made sense for Regis to get the only Shield candidate available. He was the Crown Prince. He was light where Rayna was shadow. It was obvious to her.

Still, Clarus and Regis had not gotten off to a good start.

Regis had already been upset by the situation, but Clarus had made it worse by making it blatantly clear that he was only there to perform his duty. Technically speaking, he and Regis were strangers. They didn’t know each other and for all the oaths their ancestors had made to each other, it’s hard to be devoted to someone you’ve never met before. So Clarus was there because it was expected and as he was only expected to bond with the Prince, that was exactly what he did. He didn’t ignore Rayna pre se, but it was obvious that she wasn’t his concern.

Rayna didn’t take it personally. They’d never met and Rayna was old enough to understand that Clarus was a child living up to expectations placed on him.

Regis was not as understanding.

The two ended up clashing often.

Which led them to this moment where the two of them had rapidly dissolved from a training session into very actively trying to bash each other’s heads in. Both were sporting several bruises and Clarus had a lovely split lip he got in retaliation for the cut just above Regis’ left brow.

They were never going to get anywhere like this.

Rayna sighed loudly as she heaved herself up. “Right, then. Clearly they aren’t getting anywhere like this.”

Weskham blinked at her. “Rayna?”

“Just. Be ready to back me up?”

He eyed her and then the dueling pair. “Alright,” he agreed after a moment.

She nodded and stalked forward, reaching into her core and pulling at the magic that hummed through her heart. Cold flowed into her veins and frost bloomed across her skin, her breath coming in foggy wisps. She waited until Regis and Clarus pushed each other apart and before they could charge forward, she slammed her foot down on the ground, letting her magic loose.

Ice raced across the ground, freezing the boys’ feet in place. They both yelped in surprise, arms flailing as they tried to regain their balance.

Regis whipped around to face her. “Rayna!” he shouted, betrayal plain on his face.

Rayna crossed her arms over her chest, looking entirely unimpressed. “If you two are quite done?”

Clarus narrowed his eyes at her. “Princess – ”

“Nope,” she cut in, “This has gone on long enough.” She turned to look at Regis, met his eyes and held them. “Stop being mad at Clarus for something he has no control over. He’s the only Amicitia child. You’re the Crown Prince. Of course he’s going to be your Shield. It’s not his fault that our parents refuse to think around old traditions.”

Regis scowled at her. “You are just as important as me. You deserve – ”

“It’s not about what I deserve,” she interrupted, “And even if it was, it wouldn’t be Clarus’s fault. He has as much choice in this as you do.”

Her brother frowned, still clearly unhappy, but the line of his shoulders eased and he looked away from her gaze. Rayna nodded to herself and turned toward her brother’s Shield-to-be.

“As for you,” Rayna said, narrowing her eyes, “You could stand to put in a little more effort into this.”

Clarus’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

“If you think I’ll let you be my brother’s Shield if you only see him as your _duty_ , you have another thing coming,” she told him, “If all you see when you look at him is a job, then you will _never_ be his Shield, tradition be damned.”

“Yeah?” Clarus challenged, “And who will be his Shield instead? Like you said, I’m the only Amicitia available.”

Rayna tilted her chin up, eyes hard. “I will,” she said firmly.

Clarus’s eyes widened and Regis made a choked sound behind her.

“I will,” she repeated, “Because if you think my brother is only your duty, then you don’t _deserve_ to be his Shield. Duty is an obvious, common thing. Duty is for guards. You want to be a Shield? Then you have to give more than that.”

There was a stunned silence at her words and Clarus stared at her like he’d never seen her before.

“Rayna,” Regis said, and his tone had her turning towards him, “Rayna, you can’t – ”

“I can and I will,” she insisted, “Just because it’s whats proper and traditional and the way it’s always been done, doesn’t mean it _should_ be done that way. You deserve better than that. You deserve someone who will care for _you_ , not just the Crown.”

“I already have that,” Regis replied, looking at her pointedly, “You don’t need to prove that to me.”

Rayna huffed at him, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “Well good.”

“If everyone’s calmed down now,” Weskham drawled, “Perhaps, you can unfreeze them before someone gets frostbite, Your Highness?”

Rayna hummed, thoughtful. “If I let you go, are you going to start up again?”

Clarus and Regis glanced at each other before shaking their heads.

Rayna nodded. “Good,” she said and carefully released her hold on the ice, calling up a small thread of heat to help it along.

Next thing she knew, her knees were buckling as her vision blurred. A firm hand around her elbow was the only thing that kept her face from meeting the floor. She looked up, surprised to find Clarus looking back at her, a complicated expression that she couldn’t decipher on his face.

She was distracted as Regis all but descended on her. “Sorry, sorry,” she said as he pulled her up, “I think that was too much magic too fast. I’m fine. I’m fine.”

“Yes, well, perhaps we should not do that again?” Weskham said pointedly.

She shrugged sheepishly, not entirely able to bring herself to regret it even as she continued to lean on her brother to stay upright.

“It’s almost lunch time anyway,” Regis said, starting towards the hall with Rayna still secured in his grip. “Are you coming Clarus?”

Rayna and Weskham both turned to look at the future Shield, who blinked at them in shock, looking at each of their expressions. Rayna knew without looking that her brother’s expression was carefully neutral. She tried to keep hers somewhere between expectant and welcoming. She _wanted_ the two of them to get along, to be King and Shield.

“Sure,” Clarus said after a long moment.

Weskham clicked his tongue at them. “The two of you are disgusting. Go clean up first. Rayna and I will meet you there.”

Rayna snorted at Regis’s peeved look. “ _You stink, brother mine,”_ she cooed as she pulled away from, “ _Go bond with your Shield_.”

“ _He’s not my Shield_ ,” Regis grumbled at her.

“ _Yet_ ,” she countered, “ _You two have time to work it out_.”

“ _I thought you were vying for the position_ ,” Regis said as he eyed her cautiously.

Rayna tilted her head. “ _If worst comes to worse. For now, actually give him a chance and save your anger for those who deserve it._ ”

“What are they saying?” Clarus asked Weskham blankly.

“I’ve no idea,” Weskham admitted easily with a shrug, “They have their own language.”

“And they do this often?”

“All the time.”

Regis and Rayna smirked at each other. Ah, the joys of knowing a language no one else spoke.

As Regis and Clarus headed off to clean up, Rayna fell into step with Weskham.

“I think that went rather well,” she said.

Weskham sighed at her. “The magic might have been overdoing it.”

Rayna shrugged unrepentantly. “They both needed a kick in the pants.”

“Well, you’re not wrong,” he said dryly, “With luck, you shocked them out of their animosity.”

“There’s not really any animosity between them,” she replied, “Regis is mad at the situation in general, not Clarus specifically.”

“But Clarus is the on in front of him,” Weskham mused.

Rayna nodded. “And Clarus doesn’t know Regis at all outside of the fact that he was raised to one day swear his life too him.”

“So you’re saying they need to work on becoming friends,” he said with a tad more skepticism in his voice than Rayna thought was warranted.

“It’ll work. Boys are just dumb about this kind of thing,” she informed him matter of factly, delighting in the look of affront that crossed his face. She smiled and pat his arm consolingly. “Don’t worry, Wesk. You’re one of the few that actually has his head on straight. You’ll be fine.”

Weskham grumbled at her and she just laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Rayna was bilingual in her first life. She was fluent in both English and Italian, with Italian being her first language. Yes, she turned it into a secret twin language for her and Regis. Hey, wouldn't you? (Don't lie, you would.)

**Author's Note:**

> Come scream at me on tumblr. Also, for any interested, here is the story tag.


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